


gold split on the floor

by vexedcer



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Character Study, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Light Bondage, M/M, Non-Graphic Panic Attack, Safeword Use, Scene Gone Wrong, angst? fluff? smut? this literally has all of them im rlly struggling to tag this, basically its all an elaborate set up for Simon to take care of Jace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 10:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11987931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vexedcer/pseuds/vexedcer
Summary: He's always known, distantly in the back of his head in the place where he smothers thoughts away, that Jace would look good on his knees.(When a scene goes wrong, Simon takes care of Jace, reflects on their relationship and they have a mature conversation about how to move forward.)





	gold split on the floor

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to leave a spoiler note in the end notes for anyone who wants to know ahead of time what the safeword/signal use entails. 
> 
> I love fics that explore the prickly aspects of their relationship, but i'm also a sucker for jimon being soft boyfriends who love and trust each other. this is my appreciation of that idea.
> 
> The title is from Royal Blue by my man Alberto :')

It halts with the sound of bells, but all of it starts long before that.

He's always known, distantly in the back of his head in the place where he smothers thoughts away, that Jace would look good on his knees.

Jace, who is wide and has muscles bulging from his shirt sleeves and has miles of smooth skin that's suddenly interrupted by the thick mass of old scars - very old, the kind that last from being very young and reckless; Jace the protector and Jace the soldier and Jace the arrogant all taking a backseat to the version of Jace he imagines before him on his knees ready to serve.

(Simon knows it's all a power trip, that he gets off on being the one in charge - but it's more that he can make Jace be still and whole and safe for five guaranteed minutes and not have to worry that he's getting himself killed by the supernatural somewhere.)

He doesn't expect it to be anything more than a voice he very acutely ignores.

What he definitely does not expect is Jace to drop to his knees in an alley after a fight, adrenaline still pumping through his body and stained in demon ichor and chest heaving breaths he doesn't need, pin Simon's hips against the wall in the dead of night and gag on his cock until Simon's gasping like a man saved from drowning.

They don't talk about it for three weeks - because Jace seems brittle all of a sudden, so ready to break into pieces and the others circle him with concern but are so hesitant to reach out and touch in case he shatters.

He knocks on the door of the boathouse one night, and he looks like he hasn't slept in forever. His hair is a mess, he's wearing about two layers less than he should be in the chill of the New York winter. Simon lets him in soundlessly, sliding the door shut behind him and latching it.

“I need you,” is all he says in a voice that breaks Simon's heart, and the rest is history.

(The rest is not history: Simon has to draw all the words out of Jace in the morning, the man so tightly coiled in on himself he worries that if he pulls too much that that fragile seeming thing inside Jace will snap like a rusty spring. Simon doesn't let him leave until they've both spoken their turn, Jace's slow-going and Simon's quietly honest.)

They're tentative at first, gentle like grabbing too hard will break them - and the others must sense it because they back off after a few days into their respective realisations, which is a miracle.

Simon gets the shovel talk from Alec, Izzy and Max separately, though, and he wonders if that means they approve.

Which brings them up to the bells.

Jace confesses that he wants to be so empty at times, removed from life so he can breath easy for a while - he spends so much time thinking, hunting, covering all bases that being able to exist without the weight of being a Shadowhunter seems like an untenable dream.

Simon learns how to tie some new knots.

It's not really that simple - being dominant in a sexy dream is easy. Nobody fantasises about misreading signals or missing safewords or going too far - and if they do, Simon questions their right to be a Dom in the first place.

Dominance and submission is about trust, and Simon worries that the trust isn't earned yet, that he won't be able to give Jace what he wants.

“I wouldn't go on missions with you if I didn't trust you to have my back,” Jace tells him quietly. “I trust you to - take care of me.”

So Simon goes overboard - they talk out every fantasy and limit for a while before Simon even considers going forward with a scene, they read lot of different resource  pages online, they have multiple safewords, ( _canoe, Brooklyn, piano_ ), check-in words ( _green, yellow, red_ ), and a safe signal.

Simon presses a bell into one of Jace's bound fists, so that if he can't speak or physically pull himself away during the scene, he can ring or drop the bell in place of the safeword.

He checks the tension of the restraints on Jace's wrists again, to see if they're too loose or too biting, before he stands to admire Jace sitting patiently on his floor.

He sits with his legs folded under him, arms bound wrists parallel at the small of his back, hand clutching the bell tightly so as to not drop it. His eyes are closed, head dipped, and he's breathing deep like it’s meditation.

The blue rug Simon put down after they discussed this particular scene contrasts so sweetly with the stretch of Jace's body, pale where the sun doesn't see. He's naked to Simon's fully-dressed and the power Simon feels is outweighed by the sheer overwhelming love and respect he has for Jace.

Somehow, that is almost more of a rush than the power is.

He circles Jace to look at him, take in the thick cords of his muscles bulging in some places from the position he's in, looking so peaceful and tranquil that Simon almost loaths to interrupt him and continue the scene.

It's been a stressful week; some particularly nasty demons slipped through into their realm and had wreaked havoc for four days before they managed to get everything under control. Simon hasn't seen Jace properly since it started, but now they're away from it all and he gets to take care of Jace uninterrupted for the next day.

When he reaches Jace's front again, he moves his hand to tip his face upwards towards him. When Jace opens his eyes, kaleidoscope hunger, he looks so open and honest that Simon can't help but smile.

“You're beautiful,” he says, unable to help himself. He watches the way Jace's cheeks colour at the compliment, feels the way he tries to duck his head away from the intensity.

Jace may flaunt his looks, but being called anything more intimate than sexy is a foreign idea to him. Simon tries to tell him how pretty he is in every scene they have because out in the real world, Jace the Shadowhunter would never hold with such praise.

He lets Jace look away after a few seconds, before sitting on the side of the bed and few feet away from his partner. “Come here,” he says fondly, reaching towards him slightly with an open hand.

Jace nearly pitches himself forwards in his haste to obey, shuffling forward on his knees and with a concentration on keeping his balance. The bell jingles slightly as he goes.

This was the reason Simon put down the rug; the poured-cement floor would rip up Jace's knees in no time if he was crawling around on it bare. He knows that at the end of the scene, Jace could simply draw a ruin and heal himself up but Simon would rather not have it happen in the first place.

(He also doesn't know what would happen if Jace started bleeding during a scene - the idea scares him. If he's already high on the power trip with arousal thrumming through him, would he lose it? Would he bite down and drain Jace? Could he destroy everything over some grazed knees?

He sets it as a hard limit - no blood play, nothing that could result in bleeding by accident, no teeth or knives or ropes rough enough to break the skin.

Jace respects that.)

When Jace stops before him, back straight but relaxed and at ease, his hair is starting to fall into his face.

Simon cradles the edge of Jace's strong jaw in his palm, “Colour?”

“Green,” Jace rumbles, low but clear in the silence of the boathouse as he presses his face more firmly into Simon's open hand. His eye shut again.

Jace doesn't tend to talk a lot during these kinds of scenes, pliant and sweet for the most part; unless he feels like being a brat, which is definitely fun in it's own right.

He lets go of Jace and the man before him opens his eyes again with a look heavy with desire.

It makes the deep fire burning in his groin spark again, making him smile wickedly. He leans back on his hands and says, “Suck my dick.”

Jace lunges forward towards Simon's crotch to mouth at the definite shape under the denim. He presses in with a sure lips, breath hot against the fabric, dampening it before he finally moves to unbutton the pants.

It takes a few tries and Simon is amused at Jace's frustration, his brow growing furrowed when his attempts to open them fail repeatedly. He grunts in annoyance, which is followed by a noise of triumph when the button finally pops.

The zip is much easier to manipulate and Jace has it out of the way in no time before he's resuming his ministrations of mouthing Simon through his clothes.

The warmth on his dick is beautiful, the material of his boxers tenting out with dark wet splotches from Jace's enthusiasm and his own pre-come.

He reaches down to move Jace's head away - which results in a pout so cute that he'd laugh in any other situation, and even so, a chuckle escapes him.

“Be patient,” he says in a low voice and Jace shivers. He reclines back on the bed to get a good grip on his pants and pushes them down to his knees, then ankles when he sits back up.

Jace looks up at him with wide-blown pupils, waiting for permission.

He suckles at the head when Simon nods his consent, the touch featherlight and slightly damp. “You're so good at that,” he says in a rough voice.

Jace preens at the praise and finally takes the head into his plush mouth.

He bobs his head, making wet noises against his shaft as he greedily sucks him down, and Simon groans at the tight wet heat around him as his body responds to the stimulation.

And another thought Simon pushed aside when he first felt that initial attraction Jace, adjacent to the first, is that Jace looks beautiful with a dick in his mouth.

His lips are full and wrap around him so well, stretched obscenely around his girth. His tongue is wickedly talented as it swirls it's way up and down the underside of his shaft, like it has a mind of it's own.

Jace Lightwood has a mouth made to suck cock.

He looks up at Simon intently as he slides down his cock, eyes steady on him as the distance between his rosy lips and the base gets smaller inch by inch.

Simon thinks of the first time they did this - the real first time, not the one in the alley when they were both jittery and high on the fight and Jace didn't let Simon take care of him in return for the impromptu blowjob.

Jace had slid a dramatic amount down in one go, throat working around him as he took him deeper and deeper.

Jace had pulled off, panting, pressed his forehead into Simon's thigh as he caught his breath enough to speak. “I can't - I can't get the last inch in by myself, I need you to -”

And he grabbed Simon's hand where it was resting on Jace's shoulder and placed it on the back of Jace's head with a firm hand, the prickle of hair on his skin.

A moan had pushed itself from his lips, body flashing with heat at the idea of just pushing him _down_ -

Simon figures that Jace has had enough time to get used to sucking his dick, so he cups the back of Jace's skull and pushes gently so that Jace gets the idea.

As he pushes, Jace gags around him, his muscles flexing around Simon in a beautiful way. Jace is repressing the reflex as much as possible to take him, be good for him -

Then several things happen in quick succession; Simon threads his fingers into Jace's thick golden hair and pulls; Jace shoves violently back against the hand pushing him down; the bell clatters to the floor.

The clinking of it as it rolls off the rug and onto the concrete makes Simon's insides go cold, and he's on his knees next to Jace before it finishes it's route and stops under a canoe.

“Hey, I'm here, the scene’s over,” Simon says, looking over Jace. “It's alright, we're done - we're done.”

Jace has gone pale and is shaking on the floor, his breath stuttering in his chest and Simon can hear his heart thundering desperately in his chest.

He wants to haul Jace towards him and hold on until he comes back, but he knows better.

“Can I touch you?” Simon says, hands hovering over his arms. Jace shakes his head, _no_ , frantic for a second as he still struggles for breath and Simon snaps his hands away, back towards his body to place them on his own thighs. “That's okay, Jace, that's okay. You need to take some deep breaths for me.”

It goes on for a few minutes but Simon can definitely hear that his heart is slowing. He gnaws at his lip, murmuring quiet words of encouragement.

Jace's shoulders slump inwards suddenly; they'd been braced throughout the attack but the major tension flows out of him finally as he weakly tugs at the restraints behind his back.

“Can you - ?” He whispers, voice raspy and unsure, breath still somewhat jagged. Simon is at his back and tugging the knots free with quick hands. “Thank you.”

“Do you want me to get dressed?” His underwear and jeans are on a pile next to him. Simon watches and waits for Jace to respond before he nods slightly, eyes sliding shut with a pinched expression on his face.

Simon uses his speed to slide into some old sweatpants and a fresh shirt - the old one smells like sex and he doesn't want that to go into aftercare with them.

“Bed,” is all Jace says when he returns to his side, and when he's sitting on the edge, he murmurs quietly, “Will you get me some underwear?”

“The blue ones?” Jace nods his head, looking away in embarrassment. “Shush, it's okay.” He kisses Jace lightly on the forehead, before crossing the room to root through one of the drawers that has inadvertently become Jace's since they started this four months ago.

He finds the satin material easily, a vivid colour in a sea of blacks and greys. It was the first pair they bought together and it's still Jace's favourite even after his collection has grown to include some more elegant pieces.

(Simon visits Magnus on official Downworld business one day. He decides that's the best time to ask, since it's just the two of them - no Alec in the next room, no Raphael to advise, no Clary to peer curiously at figures isolated from the group.

“Can I - ask you for some advice? Like personal advice, not Shadow World advice? And I mean it's okay if you don't know and I shouldn't assume that you do but you're the only person I could think to ask and I trust your recommendation so -”

During his ramble, Magnus has put down the documents in his hand and turned to face Simon, who continues to babble ceaselessly.

“What is it, Simon?”

He halts himself and takes a deep breath. “Do you know where, uhm - I can get some underwear?” When Magnus’ eyes narrow in confusion, Simon tries again, “Like, nice underwear - uhm, lingerie?”

Something finally clicks in Magnus’ expression, and he makes a noise of understanding. He pulls out his phone, and starts typing quickly. “There's a place on 14th Street - discrete, caters to everyone, budget friendly. Ask for Timothy and tell him I sent you, he'll be able to help you out.”

Magnus holds out his phone to show Simon a webpage with simple and elegant designs, an easy navigation system and an about page that talks about the values of the company.

He memorises the name and finally meets Magnus’ eye. “You'll keep this between us, right?”

Magnus gives him a look. “The only underwear I have any right to talk about is my own.”

Relief floods Simon - he knew Magnus wasn't a gossip but it still helps to hear it for sure.)

They picked a day when they both had a few hours to spare from their world and went into the city like mundanes. Simon buys them both ice-cream (and if his raspberry syrup isn't actually raspberry, well. No one needs to know.) and they hold hands in the street, slightly giddy with the freedom.

The store is mildly busy when they arrive, but Timothy is with them shortly after Simon asks a free assistant to locate him.

He makes excellent small talk, easing them into the atmosphere of the store like it's almost nothing. Jace’s hand, which was a vice grips of nerves when they first passed through the nicely decorated front doors, softens over the course of Timothy's spiel. When Jace finally chuckles at something their guide says, his hand is just comfortably gripping onto Simon's.

Simon suggested the blue ones to compliment Jace's eyes, and those ones end up coming home with them.

Now they're Jace's favourite - the ones he wants when he wants something comforting, and Simon plucks them from their place in the sea of darks.

After a moment, he grabs the Neosporin that's tucked in with their spare ropes and extra lube in the box beside the drawers.

Jace takes the underwear from him when he returns and pulls them up with still trembling hands.

Jace still holds so much shame in what they do - the submission, the nice underwear, being called pretty. He's better than when they ventured into this aspect of their relationship, when he said _yellow_ every time Simon spent too long praising him for his looks or his intelligence or the soft underbelly of his personality that so few people get to see, but now he takes the compliments better in his stride than before.

He's grown into his role, which has only strengthened their relationship, and Simon could not be more proud of him.

Jace presents his wrists to Simon, breathing deeply in and out with purpose.

And Simon thinks, hands smoothing cream over the irritated rings of Jace's wrists, that as beautiful as Jace looks on his knees before him, Simon has absolutely no quarrel with the role being reversed.

There's something magical about taking care of Jace, however that manifests, but Simon loves to take his place and show Jace the love and kindness the universe has decided Jace shouldn't have. Jace deserves to have the whole world on their knees before him, worshipping a man who should have always had more than he's ever gotten.

Simon's finishes with his wrists and leans up on his knees to kiss Jace's forehead. “I love you,” he whispers quietly. Jace makes a soft noise in response.

Curled up in bed a few moments later, Jace presses his face into Simon's neck and breathes quietly.

(It was Luke's idea, indirectly, that inspired the conscious focus on breath. When Simon was sixteen he had a panic attack in the Fray's kitchen - over what he can't remember now - but after Luke talked him through it, he suggested meditation and breathing exercises.

Of course it seems obvious now that those kinds of things can help, but as a kid with little education on mental health, it had seemed like a gift from above that something so small could help - not cure or end or cease, but help him gain the control back and keep going.

Shadowhunters seem equally as uninformed about mental health as sixteen year old Simon was. Meditation was apparently lost to the western culture of the Shadow World as a viable self-care technique a long time before Simon was pitched headfirst into their world, because Jace scoffs the first time he suggests it to him after a panic attack.

He had tried to brush off Simon’s worry about it, but when he finally tries it he concedes his original point.)

“What happened?” Simon asked quietly. Jace looks exhausted, but he knows that if he leaves this conversation until morning that it will just open the wound once it starts to heal so ripping the band-aid now is the best option.

Jace pushes further into him, silent for a beat of time before he speaks. “You pulled my hair - I didn't know it would, I thought -” he makes a frustrated noise when he can't find the words before he composes himself. “It was being restrained _and_ you pulling my hair because usually they're both fine on their own but together it -”

Simon waits as Jace searches for the words again.

“When I was on the boat,” he starts and a rock drops into Simon's stomach. They've talked extensively about the goddamn boat because anything done wrong triggers those bad flashes of memory and destroy any chance at having a full scene. “I was restrained with my wrists above my head and when he thought I might break he'd pull me close to him by the hair and threaten me with - things.”

Jace gulps and Simon feels a wave of rage sweep over him. He knows what Valentine threatened, and when he’s glad Clary got her closure from the knife in his throat, he wishes not for the first time that he had been the one to kill the bastard.

“You're angry,” Jace says quietly into the hollow of Simon's throat, and Simon let's himself go lax.

“Not at you,” he responds, pulling Jace more snugly into him, body warm against his own cool one. He sighs quietly, and says, “Do you want to take restraints off the table?”

Jace pauses for a minute to think. “I don't know,” he says honestly, voice unsure. “Maybe for a while.”

“We can talk about it more in the morning,” Simon tells him, knowing the bulk of the conversation is over and that the rest can be straightened out over time.

They sit in silence for a moment before Jace suddenly goes stiff and shifts away from Simon slightly. “You didn't even get to come, I -” he whispers, almost horrified at himself. He moves his hand to reach for Simon's crotch, but he quickly loops his fingers around his wrist.

“No,” he says firmly, but gently. “You had a panic attack during a scene, the only thing I need right now is to take care of you.” Simon doesn't think he could even get it up again tonight. He brings the hand still in his grip up to his mouth and kisses the ever-tender skin of Jace's knuckles; why he doesn't just draw an irazte never fails to make him wonder.

Jace seems to deflate at that. “Sorry,” he says in a small voice.

“It's okay,” Simon reassures him, rubbing a smooth hand up and down the length of Jace's bicep. “I love you,” he murmurs quietly into Jace's hair, which smells of his shampoo under a slight layer of sweat.

Jace curls towards him again, responding with a positive noise.

Simon knows Jace can't say it back yet, might never be able to say it back. _To love is to destroy and to be loved is to be destroyed_. It's a hard thing to unlearn when he's kept everyone but the Lightwoods at an arm's length all his life. There's a broken bird in Jace's head that makes him want to rebel against all affection, which makes Simon feel honoured to have Jace willingly, happily submit to him, trust him unwaveringly to have his back in both the field and in the boathouse.

But he _does_ love; he shows it, when he lets Max win in wrestling even though Alec says it gives him an unrealistic idea of his skill, when he kisses Isabelle on the forehead before he leaves the Institute, when he brings Maryse herbal tea to her office when it's way past the time to be sleeping. Love has not destroyed him yet, and that makes Simon hopeful that one day he'll know that it never will.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights?”

Jace tightens his hold on Simon's arm; the only way for them to get closer than this to twine their souls together - which might be a little fast for a guy he's known for about six months and has been dating for four. But. Everyone always says that Shadowhunters fall in love for life and maybe that's true for him too. Maybe this is it for him, even if he has all of eternity stretched out ahead of him, maybe Jace is the pinnacle, the peak of his love.

He knows that he can't be marked with a ruin, it will just burn his flesh into agony wherever the stele touches, and he feels a pulse of sadness. If he could, he'd take the marriage rune and wear it like a talisman. _Look at me, Clave dicks, I'm the scary Downworlder that Fox News warned you about!_ Maybe not Fox News - does Idris have gossip magazines?

But Jace clutches him closer to him, and mumbles “Leave them on,” eyes drooping already and his heart climbing down towards a sated rhythm.

As it is, it's not like it's the stark overhead bulbs that are shining, it's the bedside lamps that Simon bought in a thrift shop shortly after he realised that Jace can't see in the dark the way he can. Sure, he can use a ruin but it's a hassle to do when all you're doing is reading before going to sleep.

When Jace finally drops off, he reaches for his phone on the bedside table, knowing he won't be able to sleep for at least another while after the night they've had.

He looks at it over Jace's head, checks his notifications.

Surprisingly, he has a text from Alec - he's not sure when Alec got his number or when Alec's was programmed into his own phone, but when he opens it, it reads, _felt something bad through the bond, is jace okay?_

It was sent about an hour ago around when Jace first dropped the bell, which is more than enough time for a Shadowhunter to travel from either the Institute or Magnus’ loft (and portal travel is practically instant), so Simon isn't expecting any surprise visitors tonight.

There's also fact that Alec asked him, which makes him feel something in his chest - there's every chance that Alec also texted Jace, but the fact that Simon is considered an option to knowing what's going on makes him feel important. Valid in the eyes of at least the Lightwood siblings.

_everythings fine,_ he replies.

**Author's Note:**

> On Jace's safeword use: during a scene, Simon does something that unexpectedly (for both of them) triggers a panic attack for Jace (he pulls his hair). Jace uses a pre-established safe-signal (dropping a bell on the floor to signal the end of play) and Simon engages in aftercare. Afterwards they have a discussion about how to move forwards from this and Jace alludes to vague past trauma.
> 
> this was written in 12 hours and i wanna upload it as fast as possible so if i've missed any kind of important tag in regards to the sensitive topics in this fic, pls feel free to comment or shoot me an ask on [ tumblr ](%E2%80%9Dvexedcer.tumblr.com/ask%E2%80%9D)


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